Friday, November 30, 2012

When I was a boy, the Sioux owned the world. The sun rose
and set in their land; they sent ten thousand men into battle.

Where are the warriors today? Who slew them? Where are our
lands? Who owns them?

What white man can say I ever stole his land or a penny of
his money? Yet they say I am a thief.

What white woman, however lonely, was ever captive or insulted
by me? Yet they say I am a bad Indian.

What white man has ever seen me drunk ?

Who has ever come to me hungry and left me unfed ? Who has
ever seen me beat my wives or abuse my children? What law
have I broken?

Is it wrong of me to love my own? Is it wicked for me because
my skin is red? Because I am a Sioux? Because I was born where
my father lived? Because I would die for my people and my
country?

Sitting Bull - Teton Sioux

If the Great Spirit has desired me to be a white man he would
have made me so in the first place. He put in your heart certain
wishes and plans; in my heart he put other and different desires.

Each man is good in the sight of the Great Spirit. It is
not necessary for eagles to be crows. Now we are poor but
we are free. No white man controls our footsteps. If we must
die, we die defending our rights.

On this land there is a great deal of timber, pine and oak,
that are much use to the white man. They send it to foreign
countries, and it brings them a great deal of money.

On the land there is much grass for cattle and horses, and
much food for the hogs.

On this land there is a great deal of tobacco raised, which
likewise brings much money. Even the streams are valuable
to the white man, to grind the wheat and corn that grows on
this land. The pine trees that are dead are valuable for tar.

All these things are lasting benefits. But if the Indians
are given just a few goods for their lands, in one or two
seasons those goods are all rotted and gone for nothing.

We are told that our lands are of no service to us, but still,
if we hold our lands, there will always be a turkey, or a
deer, or a fish in the streams for those young who will come
after us.

We are afraid if we part with any more of our lands the white
people will not let us keep as much as will be sufficient
to bury our dead.